


I've Spent My Fair Share In The Deepest Depths Of Despair

by BisexualNerd



Series: I've Got You Brother [4]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Batfamily (DCU), Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Tim Drake, No Jason though, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Tim Drake Angst, Tim Drake Feels, Tim Drake-centric, he's dead, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:41:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23597791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BisexualNerd/pseuds/BisexualNerd
Summary: The aftermath of Jason's death.WARNING: Self-harm. Not the usual type though. But if you are easily triggered, I advise you to not read this.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson
Series: I've Got You Brother [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1687798
Comments: 15
Kudos: 107





	I've Spent My Fair Share In The Deepest Depths Of Despair

**Author's Note:**

> I know Dick isn't supposed to be at Jason's funeral but in this AU, their relationship is much better so yea, Dick's here.
> 
> And this is from when Tim is 13, so he kinda sometimes switches to calling Bruce dad, sometimes just Bruce. Don't let it confuse you. If you read my other stories of this AU, he switches completely to calling B dad when he is 16.
> 
> Title is from Hereafter by Architects.  
> (Like if you're into metalcore and try listening to the whole Holy Hell album, it kinda fits this story).

The funeral was yesterday.

They were there, watching the casket being lowered down.

He didn't cry.

His eyes seemed to have dried long ago.

He didn't linger back either. Just another reminder of what he'd lost.

_Who he'd lost._

He had stayed up all night, staring at the blank wall, shivering as the cold wind of the spring night blew through the unlatched window.

He fell asleep on top of the cover sometime around five in the morning. Probably.

When he woke up, there was a tray of food on his nightstand and a blanket covering him. He observed the tray and found a small note.

**"Try to eat some. I'll be in the study if you need me.**  
**Love you.**  
**Dad."**

_Dad._

Tim smiled sadly. He slipped the note into one of his books and picked up a bit of the food. It was still warm. He glanced at his watch. 

** 7:37 **

Tim ate some of the food, which tasted like carton and sandpaper to him. Then he flopped down on the soft mattress and stared at the ceiling.

He needed to stop lying around so pityfully. But he couldn't find the strength to move. Tim blinked. He knew he needed to stop doing this. But somehow, he drifted off to the dark corners of his mind instead.

 _Your fault._ A creepy voice said, giggled at him.

 _He's gone and it's your fault._ A laugh.

 _You should have gone with him._ Tim shuddered.

 _I didn't know where he was._ Tim tried to argue with the voice. **Tried.**

_Excuse, excuse..._

_Couldn't protect your own brother. What are you even good for? Useless little Timmy._

_Stupid..._

_Not good enough..._

_Ignorant..._

_Useless..._

_Worthless..._

**_NO! STOP IT! STOP!_ **Tim shouted back, trying to block the voice out.

He had sat up, hands grabbing his head, mouth opened to let out a silent scream.

A few hot tears fell to his thighs, his visions blurred with kaleidoscopic spots.

Tim closed his eyes, fists hitting his head like he was trying the chase all the voices away.

They just laughed.

And kept on laughing.

And laughing.

One hand flew to his neck, half queezed as he choked on the soundless scream. The other yanked his hair out, hot white pain blinded his eyes and successfully drowned the demons in his head out.

Tim fell face first on the sheet, still kneeling, arms moving to hug his body. He sobbed, let the tears fall out freely, making a damp stain.

A few minutes later, Tim calmed himself down and allowed his body to lie on the side. His eyes catched the picture of his family together on his desk.

Bruce had taken the three of them to the zoo that day, saying they needed to spend more time outside. It was only a few months ago. Tim in the picture looked so happy and _he_ looked well, alive.

His lips quivered and his throat made a wet choking noise.

_Why..._

Why what? He didn't know.

_Why did he leave us?_

_Why did he have to find his birth mother?_

_Why did she sell him out?_

_Why did he have to die?_

_Maybe if you were good enough, Jason would still be alive..._ Another giggle. _Useless little Timmy..._

He screamed, for real this time.

Tim pounded his fists on the walls, punching it with rage and despair.

He could fell the tears rolling down on his cheeks but he kept on punching until he heard a crack came from his left knuckle.

And be could faintly make out the sound of the door being thrown open and someone rushing in.

A pair of arms pulled him away from the wall and hugged him close to a warm chest. He didn't want a hug. ~~He didn't need one~~. Tim struggled to get out but the arms just held him tighter.

A comforting voice in his ears.

Two strong yet gentle arms around him.

A warm, solid chest.

Tim slumped down and cried his heart out. He wasn't held down anymore. One arm still embraced him against the chest but the other had moved to rub his back and brush his hair.

"...kay Timmy, shh. It's okay now. Just let it out baby. Shh, it's okay."

_Oh, it's Bruce._

Tim turned his head to hide his face in his dad's shoulder and moved his arms to hug the man.

"So...sorry dad. Didn't mean to...to do tha..."

"It's okay, you're grieving." Bruce paused, then continued. "But yes, you shouldn't have hurt yourself like that."

There was a tightness in his voice that made Tim feel even worse. And wow, did he just call Bruce **dad**?

"Sorry." Tim said, voice timid.

Bruce sighed.

"You know you don't have to apologize to me, right? I'm just worried about you."

Tim nodded once and gathered his courage to look up. Bruce's eyes were sad but caring all the same. His callous hands cupped Tim's face, thumps wiped the tears away from his itchy cheeks.

"Hey Timmy." His attention turned to the voice in the doorway.

"Hi Dickie." He whispered, just loud enough for Dick to hear.

Dick stepped closer to them and crouched down to his level. His eyes were warm with love but the grief still shone through. Dick took Tim's left hand in his to examine the damage.

Tim hissed when he felt the pain shot up his knuckle and wrist. Dick grimaced apologetically.

"We have to fix your hand, Baby Bird. Is your right hand hurt?"

Tim shook his head like a liar. It hurt, but it wasn't broken nor bleeding like the other.

Bruce lifted Tim up in his arms as he carried Tim to the bathroom. Alfred replaced Bruce in his line of vision soon enough and started to work on bandaging his hand up.

The old butler smiled sadly at him when he had finished. Alfred then placed a tender kiss to his head. A rare occasion that Tim had to cherish forever.

Tim breathed in deeply as if he was trying to fill the black hole in his chest when Alfred moved away. Dick walked in and scooped him up.

"Let's go to B's room, alright?"

 _It's better than to leave you by yourself for now._ Dick didn't say it but Tim could hear for himself from seeing the look in his brother's eyes.

"Okay." He muttered, dropped his head to the crook of Dick's neck. "Okay."

Bruce was already in his room, arranging the blankets around. Dick put him down on the bed and Tim crawled under the blanket in the center.

"Hungry Timmy? You didn't eat your breakfast." Bruce said, voice laced with concern.

"I did eat." He protested. He added when Bruce raised an eyebrow. "A little. Didn't feel like eating much."

"Perhaps some soup would be better, Master Tim?" Alfred arrived at the doorway, carrying another tray with a bowl on it.

Tim managed to eat most of it and drank his lukewarm tea. Alfred took the tray away, leaving him with his dad and brother.

Dick scooted closer to him and carefully picked his left hand up. Tim's breath hitched as the guilt bloomed in his stomach. He shouldn't have done that.

"Are you two okay over there?" Bruce asked, settled down on his work desk.

"Yeah, this is pretty comfy, right kiddo?" Dick ruffled his hair, pulling Tim closer.

"Yep. What are you working on?" Tim asked, yawning a little.

"Just a small case but it's kind of urgent. I'll join you kids soon."

"Okay dad. Love you two." Tim slurred the words, his eyelids drooped as sleep consumed him.

A small bit of his consciousness whispered to no one.

_Love you too, Jase._

**End.**

**Author's Note:**

> If there's any error, point out for me.  
> I am, after all, not that good at English.  
> Kudos and comments are my motivation to write more.
> 
> Finally, I'm now on Tumblr. You can find me at [@bisexualnerd](https://bisexualnerd.tumblr.com/). It'd be lovely to have anyone dropping into my messages or ask box. Or if you need anyone to talk to, don't be afraid to message me. I'd always be happy to help 😃  
> See ya all later <3


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